The Five Stages
by MissFuneralSong
Summary: After hearing Desmond's prediction, Charlie first tries to deny, then come to terms with his fate. A series of five short chapters.
1. Denial

_Dedicated to Dom Monaghan, who made me love Charlie so much that I cry for him every time._

The Five Stages

One: Denial

Charlie sat on a stretch of sand a fair distance down the beach from camp, staring distantly out at the calm ocean as though not really seeing it. A cool breeze was blowing, tugging gently at his hair, as he wrapped his arms around his knees, thinking.

It was almost five a.m., and the sun was just visible on the horizon, staining the eastern sky a soft, pastel pink. This was a picture-perfect scene, and normally Charlie would have taken time to bask in the wonder of it, a rare piece of quiet beauty to break the pattern of chaos, but not today; there was far too much weighing on his mind. He kept recalling the previous night, kept replaying Desmond's words over and over in his head: _'No matter what I try to do... You're gonna die, Charlie...'_ He'd been pondering that conversation, and its implications, all through the night, having been unable to fall asleep due to his inner turmoil. Predicting the future was impossible, he kept telling himself. Desmond couldn't have seen Charlie die, because that would be...well, impossible. Completely impossible. He was a fool for ever believing the man in the first place; there was no way that Desmond could be right. Charlie was fine, he was _going _to be fine.

No matter how many times he thought these things, he never managed to convince himself.

But denying it was all he could really do. Saying that it wasn't true wouldn't make it so, and Charlie knew this - plus, Desmond's strange, inexplicable psychic powers hadn't been wrong yet - but prolonging the moment when he finally accepted the facts, no matter how unrealistic they seemed, was the only way he could stop himself from losing his mind. If Charlie started to believe Desmond's ominous warning, then he'd end up seeing death everywhere, unable to go anywhere or do anything for fear that he'd be killed.

Head pounding as he continued to watch the rippling water before him, Charlie closed his eyes and tried to forget everything that had happened last night. It wasn't real, he insisted to himself. There's no way.

At that moment, denial was all he had.


	2. Anger

The Five Stages

Two: Anger

Claire had woken up at seven-thirty that morning and sought Charlie out as usual, expecting him to babysit Aaron so that she could have her daily walk. Normally he was only too happy to oblige, grateful for every moment he got to spend with the tiny infant, but he couldn't bring himself to cooperate this time...not after last night.

The cute blonde girl wandered over to where Charlie was sitting, still in the same place he had been all morning, giving him one of her carefree, contented smiles. She was cradling her baby, who had been wrapped in a blue airline blanket.

'Good morning, Charlie,' she ventured, when he appeared not to notice her presence.

'What?' He seemed startled to find her there, emerging at last from his own private world and feeling an uncharacteristic surge of annoyance at her having interrupted his thoughts. 'Yeah, good morning. What's wrong?'

Claire's brow furrowed, somewhat disturbed by his bluntness and serious expression. Her smile faded slowly. 'Nothing's wrong,' she replied carefully. 'I just came to bring Aaron to you so I could go for my walk, that's all.' The breeze tousled her long hair as silence reigned for several seconds, Charlie considering her rather like she'd just asked him to run through the jungle naked.

'Right,' he said finally, his voice hollow. He could feel a wave of irritation rising in the pit of his stomach as he looked from the girl to her child. 'Right, of course you did. Well, I'm actually quite busy at the moment. You'll have to get Sun or someone to do it today.' Redirecting his gaze to the ocean, Charlie seemed to have silently dismissed her. Claire goggled at him.

'Charlie...' she said quietly. 'Is - is everything all right?'

Whipping his head back around to face her, he suddenly snapped, 'Everything's _fine_, Claire! I'd just like a bit of peace and quiet, is that too much to ask? My whole life doesn't revolve around you and your baby, so will you _please_ _leave_?'

Jaw dropping at this outburst, the expression that crept onto Claire's face was one of fear; for a split second, Charlie could see real terror in her eyes - almost like she thought he was going to haul off and slap her one - and it, in turn, terrified _him_. In all the time he'd known the girl, all he'd ever felt toward her was affection, contentment...and a lot of the time, he could swear, love. Now, out of the blue, he'd basically _yelled _at her, told her to get away from him, _scared _her.

To make matters even worse, Aaron started to cry, a high-pitched, frightened wail that filled the air. Charlie's entire body went cold; he couldn't believe what he'd just done. He was disgusted with himself. Claire stood up, the fear playing on her features replaced with deep hostility as she gently rocked her baby, cooing to him in an attempt to calm him. She glared fiercely at Charlie.

'Don't you _dare_,' she hissed menacingly. 'Don't you _dare _ever make him cry like that again.' With that, she whirled round and stalked off the way she'd come, holding Aaron to her and not looking back.

Charlie watched her go, disbelief and regret plastered across his face, until she was out of sight. Then he placed his head in his hands, screwing his eyes shut. He _knew _why he'd done that; it was the threat of his impending death, already beginning to change him. Although half of him had wanted to chase after her, to apologise, to swear that he never meant for it to happen...the other half was glad that it had. If he pushed Claire away, drove her to hate him, then she wouldn't be sad if it happened. After he was gone, he didn't want her to cry for him.


	3. Bargaining

The Five Stages

Three: Bargaining

Having gone through the rest of that day in silent agony over what he had done to Claire, Charlie finally couldn't stand it any more. He went to her tent with the intention of apologising and at least partially explaining himself, but his plan was foiled by the fact that, when he arrived there, he found both mother and baby sound asleep. Aaron was in his crib and Claire lay sprawled out on the bed beside it with a book perched precariously on her chest; it was only open to the first page, so she obviously hadn't been able to concentrate on reading.

Tiptoeing over to the girl so as to not wake her up, Charlie picked the book up and replaced it in a nearby suitcase. Then he sat down carefully, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of Claire's face and considering her in silence; her eyes were slightly red and puffy, and the rockstar realised with a startled, sick feeling that she must have come back here and cried after their fight. He couldn't bear the thought that he'd hurt her that much, that he'd attempted to sabotage his relationship with the person he cared for most, and so, resolving to return later to offer his apology, Charlie stood and wandered vaguely up the beach, taking no notice of the other survivors milling about all around him.

He knew where he needed to go now. It was only a short walk to the abandoned wooden frame of what would have been Eko's church. The remnants of Locke's sweat lodge still sat in the centre of it, but Charlie ignored this, kneeling down beside it, closing his eyes and clasping his hands together in prayer.

Ever since he was a small child, Charlie had had the habit of speaking his prayers aloud; he did so now, feeling oddly reverent as the afternoon sun shone on his face and arms, warming him.

'I don't know if you can hear me,' he whispered, 'because this island seems a bit difficult to find. But, if you can, I just wanted to say that...I don't want to die.' His voice became hoarser now, more strained, as he fought back the emotions that threatened to engulf him. 'I don't know if it's true, what Desmond said, but if it is - _please_. I don't want to die. I've got too much to live for now...Claire and the baby...I can't leave them. I...' He paused, trying but failing to choke back tears as he opened his eyes and looked beseechingly up at the sky.

'I love them,' he continued, so overwrought by emotion now that he didn't even bother trying to hold it in any more. 'I don't want to leave them. _Please_. Don't let me die.'


End file.
